


be still my foolish heart

by smallredboy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Heart-to-Heart, Kissing, M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 12:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19131721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley stargaze, and Crowley has a few truths to say.





	be still my foolish heart

Aziraphale hums as he settles on the countryside grass, the stars sparkling above them. He’s glad about it all, really, about how far they have gotten. They have started to dip their toes into their burgeoning relationship— after six thousand years, yes. It’s been a long time coming, but it is only now that he feels safe enough from other angels’ watch to cradle Crowley in his arms, to kiss him, to hold him as he sleeps.

But right now, they’ve decided to do a ridiculously human thing, as most things they do are human nowadays. Stargazing.

They both know they could go off to the stars if they so desired. Run away together, as Crowley had pleaded him what felt like an eternity ago (but it wasn’t, it had been last week). They could see them up close, bright and burning like a million suns put together. But being human is better than being ethereal, occult beings, so they settle for seeing them from the English countryside.

“You know I made most of these, yeah?” Crowley asks as he settles next to him, a tentative hand on his.

Aziraphale smiles a little. “Yes, dear, I know of that.”   


He swallows nervously, in a way Aziraphale is quite sure is impossible to miss. The way he nibbles on his lower lip, his free hand playing with the hem of his frankly hideous shirt. The way he looks anywhere but the sky or Aziraphale. He’s not wearing his sunglasses for once, mostly at Aziraphale’s insistence. He would never admit it, but he loves Crowley’s eyes— the way they sparkle when he talks to him, with their amber sclera and all. He is stunning in his own right.

“Well,” he starts, still not looking at him. 

There’s more silence before he points up at the brightest star in the sky. “Do you know about Alpha Centauri?” he asks.

He blinks a few times and smiles a little. “I’ve heard of it, dear.”   
  
“It looks like one star, but it’s actually two,” he tells him, looking at him intently. “And, well, I created it. I thought it was very smart.”   


Aziraphale offers him his hand— he takes it.

“It is very smart, dear,” he tells him, leaning in. He kisses him chastely, and Crowley melts, grinning from ear to ear in a nearly grotesque fashion, holding onto Aziraphale’s shoulders as his gaze practically smolders him.

Crowley kisses the corners of his lips before he pulls away, looking back at the stars. “And, well, ah, you told me you realized you were in love with me after I saved you from those wicked Nazis, yes?”   


He smiles a little at the memory, squeezing Crowley’s hand. 

“Yes, that was when I realized. How about you, darling?”

A sweat drop visibly drips down Crowley’s forehead. He looks away again, nibbling on his lower lip once again. His eyes shift from side to side like he’s looking for an escape route. 

“Well,” he starts. “I might’ve, ah, realized I was in love with you, um…” He keeps his eyes on the grass like there’s something very interesting there apart from the lightning bugs. “Sometime before Jesus’ whole, y’know, dying thing.”   


Aziraphale’s eyes widen and Crowley grabs at the grass like he’s expecting harsh rejection, a chuckle, a mocking comment— instead Aziraphale pulls him closer, kisses him messily. He grabs Crowley, his hands on his face, pulling him closer, ever close. He understands why Crowley made Alpha Centauri into two stars that look like one— he feels like they’re one star, burning ever bright, right now.

He pulls away, gasping a little, eyes wide with adoration. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with your feelings for two thousand years.”   
  
“I just—” he kisses him again. “I thought you would never love me back. That you would think I couldn’t feel love.”   
  
“Oh, dear,” he breathes, eyes wide and his heart with a pang of guilt, “I always knew you weren’t all that bad. That you could, in theory, feel love, but I never expected—”   
  
“For me to feel love for you?” he echoes. Aziraphale bites his lip and nods hesitantly. Crowley lets out a laugh that sounds a little more like a hiss before peppering kisses all over his face. “You’re an incredibly stupid bastard, Aziraphale, my dear angel.”   


He laughs a little, clinging onto him. “I know, I know, dear.” He looks at the night sky once again. “What were you saying about Alpha Centauri?”   
  
Crowley looks at him, blush settling into his cheeks at a rapid pace. His tongue slips out, forked and all, and he licks his lips. It’s rather from the nerves. “Well,” he starts. “I named it after…” He keeps his gaze trained on the tree a few feet from them. “After us.”

Aziraphale blinks, sure he must’ve heard wrong—

“Alpha Centauri,” he says. “AC. Aziraphale, Crow—”   


Aziraphale tackles him to the ground, an unexpected response. He knows he’s a bit heavy on Crowley, as he weighs quite a bit more than him, but it doesn’t stop him from lying on top of him. Crowley might as well be bending the laws of physics to make it comfortable for both of them.

“I love you,” Aziraphale tells him, kissing him over and over and over again like it’s a silent prayer he’s got no words for at all. “You’re— what in the— you named stars. After us.”   
  
“Two stars that seem like one to the naked eye,” Crowley tells him, twirling some of Aziraphale’s curls in his hand, looking at him with adoration all over his gaze.

Aziraphale tries not to cry and he fails. “That’s us,” he whispers, kissing him once more. “That’s us.”   


Alpha Centauri is already the brightest star from humans’ point of view, yes, but it burns especially bright this night, and the one after, and the one after, as Crowley and Aziraphale get what they’ve wanted for something short of two thousand years. The wait might’ve been worth it, Aziraphale can’t help but think, as Crowley mumbles half-asleep about the stars he helped make, about the constellations he thinks are almost as beautiful as his angel himself. 


End file.
